Years and years ago, my partner and I were staying at my mothers house. She did a bunch of grocery shopping one night, and in that, she had bought a big jar of pickles. That same night, I stayed up extra late doing a Where's Waldo? book. The next morning, the pickles were gone.

For years, it has been thought that I ate those pickles. It only makes sense. However, I did not eat those pickles. Nobody will confess.

I would like to know who took those pickles.

I wonder if they didn't get left at the store; I've had that happen a few times, things were overlooked and didn't get bagged. Now I'm wondering about your pickles?

Perhaps waldo took them, and that's why he's hiding.....!

The jar was never found, but my step mother swears she remembers putting it in the fridge when she was unpacking the groceries. Sometimes when partner and I are having a romantic moment or something like that, he will ask me what really happened to the pickles. Like I am going to confess in the moment.

Ah, but the pickles! That's, that's where I had them. They laughed at me and made jokes, but I proved beyond the shadow of a doubt, and with, with geometric logic, that, that a duplicate key to the wardroom icebox did exist

Where did the two jars of jam that I bought within weeks of each other go? Neither was opened and one was a very big jar - I remember carrying that one in and my SO looked at it and remarked that it was a big jar.

When I converted to Judaism, I was surprised to find the service very familiar (I was raised Protestant, with no Jewish relatives and few Jewish friends). The music, the prayers were all familiar and I "knew" what was going to happen next. I do have some memories of my mother buying matzoes in the spring, and fuzzy memories of going to a synagogue. She was supposed to be Episcopalian. Much later I found that my mother's family name was changed from a more Jewish sounding name, and I suspect that her family was at least part Jewish and immigrated to escape persecution (which did happen in their city in Germany). Both my parents are gone, and I never wanted to uncover what was apparently a secret, anyway.

My father told me about some people he met in Texas. They were descended from Spaniards and lived in a rural community, where they farmed. They had a lot of "odd" habits.

The raised cows and chickens, but refused to raise pigs. They always changed the linens on the beds on Friday mornings. They had very particular dietary habits. And every Saturday they would meet in the middle of someone's cornfield and hold a religious meeting.

Each of the odd things they did were things they had been made to promise their parents to do forever, but to never ask why. Often their parents didn't know why, just that they had also promised their parents.

I have lost time. Twice. Now, I don't actually believe in alien abductions, but if I did...

The first time, I was driving down I-90/39 from Wisconsin toward DeKalb, Illinois to visit my boyfriend at NIU. One second I'm just passing the first of the Rockford exits. The next, I'm at a toll booth on I-88 heading toward Chicago, a distance of about 50 or 60 miles. I was REALLY late to his soccer game. To this day, I have no idea what happened.

The second time was about two years ago. My husband came home from work and told me not to forget about my doctor's appointment the next day. "What? That's not 'til Friday!" I said, thinking he was nuts. "Uh, hon, today is Thursday." He likes to play tricks on me. So I looked at my phone calendar. Sure enough, he was right. I'd thought it was Tuesday. Now, I've thought it was the wrong day many times before. It wasn't like that. I could not remember what I'd done for the two days before that. No clue. It was like I'd gone to bed on Monday night and woken up to Thursday. It's still very unsettling. And hilarious. My husband still makes fun of me for it.

I have lost time. Twice. Now, I don't actually believe in alien abductions, but if I did...

The first time, I was driving down I-90/39 from Wisconsin toward DeKalb, Illinois to visit my boyfriend at NIU. One second I'm just passing the first of the Rockford exits. The next, I'm at a toll booth on I-88 heading toward Chicago, a distance of about 50 or 60 miles. I was REALLY late to his soccer game. To this day, I have no idea what happened.

The second time was about two years ago. My husband came home from work and told me not to forget about my doctor's appointment the next day. "What? That's not 'til Friday!" I said, thinking he was nuts. "Uh, hon, today is Thursday." He likes to play tricks on me. So I looked at my phone calendar. Sure enough, he was right. I'd thought it was Tuesday. Now, I've thought it was the wrong day many times before. It wasn't like that. I could not remember what I'd done for the two days before that. No clue. It was like I'd gone to bed on Monday night and woken up to Thursday. It's still very unsettling. And hilarious. My husband still makes fun of me for it.

Things like that happen to me, but mostly because I never look to see what day it is, I do the same thing every day, and I tend to either way overestimate or underestimate time. Very mundane stuff. I'd be interested to know what really happened to you, though. It's actually kind of scary.

How is it that I have the worst sense of direction on the face of the earth but from the very first time I went to Savannah I could navigate the historical district with no map and no problem....the one error that I made was a friend asked me where a certain house was. I was wrong about the location...until I read years later that that house had been moved to it's current spot. I've often wondered if I didn't go to where it was. I've never been totally at home anywhere but Savannah either....I just felt familiar there. Dean swore there was some reincarnation thing to it, but I don't know...I had the eeriest deja-vu' and had never read a book or looked at a lot of pictures of Savannah (certainly not the way I've poked through the great cities of Europe!). Every bit of downtown looked familiar. I've never been able to explain it.

Was the house I grew up in haunted by the old woman who died there? Was the townhouse Hubby and I had haunted by the man murdered there (I never could relax in that place...I always felt like someone was going to break in, even before we knew about the murder).

I have only one drawer in my kitchen where I keep ALL of my cooking utensils. The one item I use most often is my wooden spoon. One day last month, getting ready to cook dinner, I opened the drawer to get the wooden spoon. Not there. Not in the dishwasher, not in the sink. I went back to the drawer and took every single item out searching for it but no wooden spoon. I live alone - there was no one else to blame.

Sigh. Wondered if I accidently tossed it out while cleaning. Rats.

Finished cooking the potatoes, went back to the drawer for the masher and the wooden spoon was right there on top.

This has happened to me too! The only thing I can think is maybe I was holding the spoon, focusing on finding it (and thus not registering that it's in my hand), clearing out the drawer, and dropping that spoon back in when I've not found it. No clue.

I have a thing for frogs, and as such I have been receiving little froggy trinkets and nicknacks for years. One such gift was a 'family' of four ceramic frogs; two small, and two larger. They were happily placed on a shelf in my bedroom, along with their amphibious brethren, until one day the shelf got knocked, and the largest of the two 'parents' fell off, never to be seen again.

I turned my room upside down hunting for 'him', and even went through my waste paper basket, but to no avail. A few years ago, I moved out of that room, and had another hunt around whilst my furniture was boing moved, but never found a trace.

Why do my jean capris fit great when I'm standing but suddenly shrink a size when I'm sitting?

Why does my ds read upside down?

What happened to the cowboy statue I gave my grandparents? No one has seen it for years and no one admitted they took it when they died. I'd love to have it back. It wasn't mentioned in the will to go to anyone so I think a certain uncle took it.

I want to know who put the red roses on my father's grave that my mother found.

I have a not so good explanation. My father died when I was very young, and I hadn't been to the cemetery since I was maybe 6. Before I went to college, I decided to visit his grave and bring him flowers. Unfortunately, I went by myself. I couldn't remember where his grave was. There was no one in the office to ask, so after an hour of wandering I left the flowers on someone elses grave and left. I haven't been back. I didn't think until later about that persons family seeing the flowers and wondering...

Several years ago, one of my relatives mysteriously disappeared. He just never came home one night. A few months after he disappeared, the FBI questioned his (adult) children and his wife. No one had a clue. A few years later, he returned and could not remember a thing about where he'd been. I'm not sure if he realized he'd even been gone. Where was he when he was missing?

That is incredibly rare, and if it is a true case, I'm very sorry for everyone involved as the amnesiac may actually have lost all that time. I really dislike it when tv-series and movies "do" amnesia, as it is rarely true to the actual disorder, and the actual disorder(s) are devastating enough.

I'd like to know how my husband and I managed to have the same randomly generated pinnumber when we first met. I lived in Holland when I was a small child, but moved to Norway with my mom when I was 9. After highschool I went back to holland to stay with grandpa for a bit, and there, at the job I took on the advice of my then boyfriend, I met my now DH.

-Why did I move to Holland? Then-boyfriend(norwegian) wanted to go there, I wanted to move to Spain, we threw a coin. He won. -Then-boyfriend insisted on taking the job in question, a techjob I really did not want, but money was essential, so I took it.

-Boy friend moved out, I met my now-husband. He was my supervisor, actually...-Went out shopping months later, found out we had same, randomly assigned pin number.

-We also went to the same kindergarten 2 years apart. I moved all the way to Norway, and back, to meet this man that I now spend everything with.

I'm a scientist, and really, truly do not believe in destiny, but I still wonder how that happened. A lot of weird things coincided to get that outcome.

Edited for coherence.

« Last Edit: May 17, 2010, 04:13:10 AM by Nora »

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